


You Do the Math

by howbadcanmyficsbe



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Some light angst, Tattoos, idk this is very fluffy and nerdy, takes place during and after the events of the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howbadcanmyficsbe/pseuds/howbadcanmyficsbe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt is pretty bothered that Hermann doesn't like his tattoos, or him for that matter. But when he sees something suspicious in the Drift, he further investigates the situation, much to Hermann's annoyance. Just a fluffy one-shot, based on some nerd headcanons I tweeted about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Do the Math

Newton had always assumed that Hermann loathed his tattoos. Assumed he found them distasteful mistakes that covered his entire upper body. Assumed that he hated Newton as well. But Newt ignored this as he admired his art in the mirror every day. His tattoos were just an integral part of him, the rock star of the K-Science unit, despite the its only inhabitants being Hermann and himself. A part of him found satisfaction in making Hermann annoyed at his reckless nature, but a nagging feeling would always linger that wanted Hermann to like him, not just to tolerate. But the tattoos were always seemed like a roadblock that neither would pass in any argument.

 

Until the Drift.

 

The moment Hermann had insisted to help Newt Drift with a baby Kaiju, Newt was elated. This grumpy mathematician who had hated him from the time they met eight years earlier was finally showing that he cared, if even a little. He saw again the compassion  absent of the worry that he had felt as Hermann rushed into their lab while he laid on the floor in a seizure, the care he was enveloped in when Hermann’s surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him, yelling his name. Not Geiszler as he would normally, but his first name. Newton thought this happiness would suffocate him until he snapped from his reverie and realized they needed to hurry.

 

“We’re gonna own this bad boy!” Newt smiled with rushing adrenaline, holding out his hand.

 

“By jove,” Hermann struggled to find a way to reciprocate the gesture “we are going to own this thing for sure.” He latched onto Newton’s hand and held tightly, both grinning, laughing, and shaking in their nervousness and enthusiasm.

 

Everything that came after happened in a rush. The aftereffects of the Drift, the desperation of getting back to the Shatterdome in time, watching the pilots fight, losing two rangers, seeing them plant the bomb, and finally cheering as Mako and Raleigh surfaced safe and sound went by and suddenly everything was over. The war was over and the clock stopped and every person was embracing their neighbor in celebration and relief, and mutually Hermann and Newton put their arms around each other and smiled so much their faces ached. It was over.

* * *

 

That night Newton went to return to his room, giddy still but now more thoughtful. He had begun to contemplate the Drift with Hermann and what he had seen. Curiously, he could recall a familiar memory, but knew it wasn’t his. But, he knew the scents, sensations, and colors all too well. He stopped at his door and realized Hermann was outside his room as well, directly across the hall from Newt’s.

 

“Hey Herms,” Newt said. Hermann didn’t protest to being addressed as such, though he normally would have. At that moment the scientist felt an urge to be near him, missing the strong, warm connection of the Drift. “Nice work today man.”

 

Gottlieb gave a small smile. “I must say, you performed exceptionally today as well Newton.” He stopped there, as they both felt the buzz of the other’s feelings in their heads, willing them closer. Without saying anything, Hermann had asked Newt to come into his room. Sensing his invitation, Newton threw his tattered jacket into his room and joined Hermann.

 

His room was unsurprisingly tidy and neat, but a little bare. Nothing hung on the walls, and the only sign of Hermann was a photo on his desk. Upon closer inspection, Newton recognized the figures in the photo to be Hermann and his recently divorced wife. From the Drift, Newton could conjure a memory of their mutual separation. She had been with another man with Hermann’s knowledge and permission. The two were close friends and had decided to get married because they were both single at the time. They still remained friends, even though she was now pregnant with her new husband’s kid. Newton tried to remember whether he knew these things from the Drift or beforehand, but his mind was muddled and hungry for Hermann's attention at that moment.

 

Newt took a seat backwards on Hermann’s desk chair, folded his arms on its back, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Hermann took refuge in a large comfortable-looking chair opposite Newt and held his bad leg, massaging the aches and pains from the long day. The scientist facing him could feel the phantom pain in his own leg as he contemplated his question.

 

“So why was there a memory in the Drift from a tattoo parlor?” Newt blurted after a solid minute. Suddenly, Hermann froze, an angry yet nervous look on his tired face. He finally shifted his gaze to his lab mate, whose leg had started to bounce as he sat.

 

“I believe you’ve mistaken a memory to be your own Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann attempted, his lips tight in displeasure.

 

Newt continued though, determined to know. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the place I go to man. You do the math, there’s only one other person’s it could’ve been.”  

 

Hermann frowned as he and Newt glared at each other, each too stubborn to give. Finally, Newt felt him relent as he sighed resignedly. Reaching for his cane, Hermann stood and an alarmed but curious Newton got up to support him as he stripped the layers covering his torso. Newton felt his face grow hot as Hermann held onto his shoulder. When nothing was left but his buttoned grey shirt, he could feel Gottlieb’s anxiety heighten. Soon he was wearing only a white sleeveless undershirt, and Newt thought he might have a heart attack as he took in Hermann.

 

The mathematician was not particularly built, but his arms were more muscled from the use of his cane and likely his time spent scrawling on his chalkboard. His lean form was expected, as Newt knew Hermann hardly weighed anything from years of war rations. But first and foremost, Newt’s eyes were directed to Herman’s arms. From his shoulders to his mid-forearms were intricate formulas, numbers, and theorems laced in ink on his bare, pale skin in stark black.

 

He heard Hermann make a sharp intake of breath and Newt lifted his eyes to his face. His expression was tense and reserved as he looked at anything other than Newt. The shorter man finally broke the silence.

 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Newt asked as he helped Hermann back to his chair. His thoughts flooded back to the years that they had known each other and noticed that Hermann had never worn clothing that could have revealed them. Hermann let out a frustrated sigh, his face red, as Newton returned to the desk chair.

 

“Why would I need to? They were a mistake I made years ago. I was very drunk after the first Kaiju attack. I was angry about my leg-”

 

“Wait you mean you got them right before we met?” Newton interjected.

 

Hermann exhaled. “Well, yes. Additionally Vanessa never particularly liked them. And tattoos are unprofessional, Newton. I would never display them in a work setting.”

 

Newton kept his eyes on them for a moment, studying their winding patterns around his biceps. “Is that why you didn’t like mine, because you regretted yours?” he asked quietly. "Is that why you didn't like me?"

 

“I suppose so. In addition to your enjoyable personality.”

 

This made Newt smile, feeling the bridge between them warm. “You know, they kinda make you look like a rockstar dude. Like a math rockstar.”

 

“Is that more reason for me to hate them?” Herman chuckled.

 

He laughed back and rolled the office chair next to his lab mate to inspect them more closely. “No dude, they really do look killer. Like, I don’t even know what half that shit means and you made badass sleeves out of them.” As he started to get lost in the numbers again, he felt Hermann’s presence near his face, and in an instant Hermann’s lips were on his.

 

It was sweet and the tingling of the lingering neural connection sparked and danced in their minds. The sensation was overwhelmingly pleasurable and both thought that they could die right there indefinitely happy. And then they separated, breathless and bewildered.

 

Again, Newton was the first to speak. “Can I stay in here for the night maybe?”

 

“Uh- r-right,” Hermann stammered. “Please.”

 

That night, Newton curled next to Hermann’s body in the bed, and they savored the sweetness of their proximity.

 

"So do you still hate the tats?" Newton asked, kissing Hermann's collar bone.

 

"Well, now that I have seen all of them," he said while observing the colorful swirls occupying Newt's chest "I may appreciate the monstrosities a bit more."

 

Newt could only laugh, as there was nothing else to say that wasn’t in the thoughts that trickled with ease between the two. They wrapped their arms around one another, admiring each other's beautiful mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> so a while ago i had posted dumb joking headcanons on twitter that hermann gives newt shit about his tattoos but then he finds out hermann has some sleeves as well and they're dumb and nerdy math tattoos which he would totally do and THIS HAPPENED sorry. but please review if you can! this is the first fic i've actually published so i hope you liked it!


End file.
